Into the Abyss
by clarinet97
Summary: For the 67th time, the Hunger Games are just around the corner. Again, the Hetalian nations must fight each to the death after watching it all done last year. Nothing's in for them but a world of hurt.
1. Chapter 1: A New Start

**Merry Christmas everyone! As a gift, here's the first chapter of my sequel to Hetalians in the Hunger Games. Read, enjoy, and reviews **

Vodka. That was all a person, or perhaps nation, needed. Just the frigid blaze of the tart liquid cascading down one's throat, washing away the horrible thoughts and memories of a certain outdoor arena where twenty four tributes were brawling one another like animals to the death. When nations were ripping each other open, disemboweling each other, slashing open throats. All that was needed to quell that heinous world of hurt was a good swig of vodka.

Belarus slammed her crystal glass down on the table, having drained its transparent alcoholic content. Sighing, she looked around the grand, stainless steel kitchen in her mansion in Victor's Village. Living the posh life was hardly a help to the qualms of being a victor. Day by day, reporters, journalists, and more people she couldn't even classify came knocking on her door, asking the same old questions, wanting an opinion on all sorts of matters, and, most annoyingly, requesting an interview. As the nation poured out another serving of Russia's favorite homemade vodka into her glass, the doorbell rang.

"Oh for crap's sake!" Belarus yelled angrily. The glass slipped through her fingers, and the crystal shattered into a thousand pieces on the tiled ground, a perfect representation of how Belarus felt right now. She knew she was mostly required to at least answer in part to the reporters' questions, and now that the reaping for the 67th annual Hunger Games was around the doorstep, only two hours away, in fact, she'd been sought out mercilessly and practically by the minute. "I just want to give whichever stupid reporter that is a real piece of my mind...or perhaps..." She glanced up at the mantle as she began trudging toward her front door. The knife she'd used to kill Hungary and win the 66th Hunger Games hang right above it, encased in shining glass and still containing spatters of Hungary's blood. With a snort, she turned and flung open her heavy oak door. "What do you want?"

"A kinder greeting to start with."

Belarus' eyebrows flung up as she regarded the man on her doorstep. He was rather old, but looked like he'd had a copious amount of plastic surgeries, as so many people from the Capitol here liked to do. His hair and beard were shock white, and the red rose in his suit lapel held the heavy aroma of blood, a scent Belarus was quite familiar with.

"President Snow?" She asked dubiously, recognizing him from the countless adds, commercials, and posters she'd seen back in the Capitol before the games started, and afterward when she went through all those victory rallies and interviews. "What are you doing here?" While she knew most citizens in the country would bend down and probably kiss his shiny black shoes, he wasn't anything special to her. After all, Belarus was a living Hetalian nation, not some silly human.

"Well, since it appears no introduction is needed, may I come inside?" He responded, stepping into the mansion without invite. "Ah, much better..." He mused as Belarus shut the door after him. "Now, you were wondering why I came?" The president turned around and walked toward Belarus' living room, settling himself down on one of the plush arm chairs, as she noticed him eying her knife above the mantle. "I came in person to tell you something new. As is being broadcasted as of right now, we have decided to do this year's reaping out of the pool of tributes from this Hetalian village once more."

"What?" Belarus sputtered, incredulous and angry. "Wasn't one year of seeing nations kill each other enough? Do you all have to see us tear each other apart again, like we're only humans?"

Snow held up his wrinkled hand. "Patience, young lady. Last year, all you nations gave us such an exciting Hunger Games, ratings were the highest that they've ever been during the entire time we've had this tradition, citizens couldn't stop talking about how exciting you guys were. The betting was rampant, and we-"

"And you got loads of money," Belarus finished for him, feeling a pang of anger rush through her. Of course it would be great fun watching another pool of nations slaughter each other all for monetary reasons. Typical. The stupid old man sounded just like Switzerland. Or at least how Switzerland used to.

"That's not the reason we're doing it again this year, though we all benefitted greatly, as did your village here." He replied, staring at her with his cold slates of eyes. Indeed, the village had gotten some very nice perks from the Games. Most nations had gotten newer and larger homes. The village square was adorned with fountains and gardens. And for the grand finale, Belarus had gotten this mansion of a castle to live in, with a team of over a hundred servants she didn't even recognize. "Rather, we feel it will allow our districts to recuperate more, and it will be a welcome event for the whole nation," He paused, and looked up at her. "However, I came here to ask a request of you. I would like you to accompany the tributes to this years' games."

"Why would I want to do that?" Belarus retorted angrily. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to the Capitol and watch more nations kill each other, although she wouldn't be a part of the killing this time.

Snow began standing up. "I think that you would be a welcome mentor figure to them. You're a nation yourself, just like them, and I'm sure you could sympathize better with them than any other mentor could, having gone through this whole process yourself."

The female nation thought about this stipulation for a moment. Perhaps, if she didn't have Russia, a mentor that was also a nation, and knew the whole process, would have been welcome, better than any of the meat headed human mentors who were far too full of themselves, and probably not that skilled anyway, in her opinion. She could have been able to find helpful tips and advice, and maybe even dirt on her enemies. Sighing, she turned toward the president, who was making his way to the door.

"Okay. I'll do it, but only for the nation's sake."

He gave her a sickly smile that made her think she'd have been forced to come along as it was. "Good, I'm sure they'll appreciate it. Well, I'd best be going now. See you soon at the reaping, as all mentors must attend." With the smell of blood following him, the President made his way out of Belarus' house and into the sleek black limo parked in front of it. She watched the smooth vehicle pull away, and felt a warmth of relief. He was gone...for now, at least.

...

"Let's just get this over with," Belarus muttered to herself. The fall sun was warm and soothing on her face, just as she recalled it being so last year. Tweets of birds floated in the air around her, as she distinctly heard the Mockingjay's call.

"Welcome, welcome!" Effie Trinket, that stupid women who accompanied the tributes then watched them all die, greeted the crowd. Effie was standing in front of the podium on the stage, as Belarus sat beside her, staring at the throng of nations in front of her. Directly in front of the stage, a roped in section of males and females stood, shuffling about nervously, and various family members who were too old to be reaped stood behind them. "Welcome to the reaping of the sixty-seventh annual Hunger Games! For the second year running, we are privileged to reap from this special group of candidates. Now, since you all know the drill, let's get started, and as always, ladies first!" As she reached into the large glass reaping bowl, Belarus thought about how satisfying it would be to stand up and push her right of the stage. Only too bad the peacekeepers would probably shoot her.

Effie pulled out a slip, and unfolded it, her eyes bulging excitedly. "The first female tribute is...FemAmerica!" Belarus watched as Allison F. Jones strutted up to the stage. Like her brother who'd died last year, she didn't look to worried either. Hopefully that didn't mean she'd be first to go in the bloodbath. "Next up is Mexico!" A tan lady with long black hair nervously clambered aboard the stage and stood next to Allison. "Then Vietnam!" A small, Asian girl cast her eyes down and walked toward the stage, though Belarus noticed her shooting Allison a hateful glare. "Our fourth tribute is FemCanada!"

Belarus face palmed. For the long life of her, she just couldn't figure out who that was. She nearly laughed aloud when the timid looking girl nervously climbed up onto the stage, her eyes hidden by her long hair. She vaguely recalled her human name being Marguerite. She looked exactly like Allison, but acted like the complete opposite. Belarus began wondering which of the two would last longer.

Effie began again. "Our next tribute is FemSpain," Isabel, a stylish women in a pinstripe shirt, bit her lip and came up onto the stage, looking like she had a bad case of butterflies in her stomach. "Following her is FemFrance," Another elegant women, though this one looking completely snobby and attracting some gazes from the male section, came onto stage, her head held high, and her blond hair knotted in an intricate bun. She attracted so much attention Belarus just knew she probably wouldn't last too long in the arena. Effie pulled out another slip. "FemJapan!" A shy looking girl in a simple Kimono delicately walked toward the stage. She was quite, but Belarus could sense a deadly sense of expertise about her. Perhaps she wouldn't be too bad a tribute to coach.

Effie took another deep breath, and pulled out another slip. "Our eighth female is...FemGermany!" The rather butch looking women, with short blond hair that Belarus had heard referred to as Louise stepped up, a powerful aroma about her. She seemed so much like her brother Germany, whom Belarus had skinned and gutted alive only last year, she thought with a smirk. Effie fished out another slip, enjoying the process. "Up after Louise is FemChina!" A girl with black bobs climbed onto the stage, not striking Belarus as anybody important. "Following her is FemItaly!" A girl with brown hair and a pronounced girl climbed aboard the stage. Belarus could see she had a lot more fight and courage than her brother who'd been stabbed to death by England last year. "Next is FemEngland!" Alice Kirkland, a blond girl with glasses, climbed onto the stage next to Daisy, or FemItaly. Belarus could see how THAT would become an interesting rivalry.

"Only one left!" Effie called happily, reaching into the bowl. "Last is... FemPrussia!" A white haired female with red eyes, Gillian, clambered onto the stage, looking as if she wasn't too worried about the impending Games.

With a look of glee on her face, Effie Trinket turned toward the male throng. "Now then, it's your turn Gentleman! Let's get to it, first up is...Romano!" A grumpy man with dark brown hair dragged his feet toward the stage, as Belarus heard Spain cry in protest. "Following him is Spain!" Spain, who'd been sobbing a second before, rubbed his eyes and ran toward the stage, embracing Romano tightly. Belarus couldn't help but remember how both their brothers, Italy and France, had died last year. Perhaps their house would be empty forever now.

"Third up is...MaleBelarus!"

"Brother!" Belarus cried as he ascended the steps. "No!" Nikolai turned and shrugged, seemingly nonchalant. "After him is Korea!" An Asian man with dark brown hair and a curl walked to the stage, joining Honda (FemJapan), and FemChina. "Our fifth gentleman is Hong Kong!" Another brown haired Asian man parted from the crowd, and walked to the stage. "Then we have MaleHungary!" Belarus narrowed her eyes as he ascended to the stage. He reminded her so much of the real Hungary, who'd almost costed Belarus the victory title.

Effie cleared her throat, and withdrew another slip. "Next up is Austria!" The shy music lover, who played piano in the square on occasion, shuffled to the stage, looking dejected. "Our eighth man is...Canada!"

Once again, Belarus rubbed her temples in frustration. She simply could not wrap her head around who this actually was. Alas, the America doppelgänger in looks, Matthew, quietly climbed to the stage, as Effie withdrew another slip. "Sweden!" A tall, blond haired man with a deathly quiet demeanor climbed to the stage, his head held down. Belarus reckoned he was another strong competitor, and must be out for revenge after his lover, Finland, died in the bloodbath last year.

"We're almost through!" Effie called cheerily, earning her an eye roll from Belarus. "Next is India!" A tan nation walked to the stage, gulping nervously. "Iceland!" Another blond Baltic nation stepped up and away. "And bringing up the rear, our last Hetalian tribute for this year is...Norway!" Yet another Baltic stepped up, joining Iceland and Sweden. "Well then, that finishes it! Give a round of applause to our brave young men and women!"

Belarus sand back in her chair, sighing heavily. "Oh joy."

**Thank you all for reading! In this fic, the Nyotalia nations will be referred to by their human names to make it easier and less awkward. Also, I won't be spending very much time in the pre games area, with training and such, but I'm going to try to get to the actual games as quick as possible, so stay tuned! Thanks again for reading, and Merry Christmas! **


	2. Chapter 2: Stirring

**Hey all! Thank to those who have reviewed so far ;) I really appreciate it! Enjoy **** Oh also, I know I referred to Sweden, Iceland and Norway as the Baltics last chapter, but they are indeed in fact NORDICS. Sorry for the confusion! **

"It hardly even seems like to weeks have passed," Daisy Vargas remarked as she shoved a spoonful of pasta and cheese into her mouth, devouring the dish from her homeland. "Our time here went by so fast…"

Louise continued pacing around the plush hotel suite they were sharing, staring nervously at the enormous, flat screen television on the on the wall. Meanwhile, Daisy lay on the sofa, comfortably resting and eating from the many instant food services their hotel service had to offer, now settling on a piece of gooey chocolate cake. "Come on," She told Louise, starting to dig in once more. "Lighten up! Enjoy this enormous grand hotel while we still can."

"This is only for another day!" The German shot back, grabbing a piece of sausage jerky and feverishly biting into it. "Tomorrow we'll be thrown out to die! Really, how can you just sit there and eat? I've never understood Italians…"

Daisy shrugged, polishing off her cake. "Pasta is good. So is all the other food here though."

"I can barely even eat," Louise sighed, throwing the sausage away in the golden waste bin. "Training scores will be broadcast any minute, and I just…just can't wait to see mine!"

"What did you show the Game makers anyway?" Daisy questioned as she took yet another food item, this time a creamy lemon pie. "I just showed them several new paints I was able to make with berries, and that I could tell the dangerous and safe ones apart, and also that I could beat their dummy up."

"It will give you something, at least," The butch, blond women responded, leaning against her bedpost, albeit glad that North Italy's female version could at least put up somewhat of a fight. "I just hope mine will allow me to get decent sponsors and make a good impression."

Daisy shook her head again. "You Germans are always so uptight and serious, oh-"She cut off as the television screen flashed brightly, with the latest update. "They're here!" At this, Louise gasped and sprinted over to the sofa, knocking an expensive silver vase filled with roses aside. Her wide blue eyes were fixated on the screen, which was recapping the tribute parade, showcasing Spain and Isabel in flashy red and gold chariots studded with gems, Vietnam in her chariot made to look like a gondola, and the audience being totally confused as to who Canada and Marguerite, his female sibling, even were.

"Come on, come on," Louise growled impatiently as the gaudy announcer cracked a few jokes, and then finally got on with it. The screen blinked, and then the scores were posted.

Daisy Vargas-7

Canada-2

Marguerite-2

Nikolai-10

Louise-10

India-6

Allison Jones-9

Honda Sakura-9

Chun Wang (FemChina)-6

Vietnam-8

Mexico-4

Isabel-6

Francoise (FemFrance)-3

Gillian-9

Spain-7

Romano-2

Austria-4

Korea-7

Hong Kong-5

Swedan-10

Iceland-4

Norway-5

Daniel (Male Hungary) – 10

Alice Kirkland- 11

Louise stomped angrily on the floor, though the thick, royal purple carpeting nullified the affect. "Bitch! Last year Alice's brother got a 12. The highest score, and she gets an 11 just put under her? Oh, I'm going to get her good in the arena…I doubt she can even fight!" The German cracked her knuckles and snorted. "Little Alice Kirkland is dead."

…

"Come on, you'll be fine," Allison said dismissively, waving off Marguerite's concerns. The Canadian Female was fretting over her low training score, upset that it would seal her fate of no sponsors.

"No, I won't," She countered, worriedly biting her lip. "The Gamemakers didn't even know who I was! They couldn't even see me until I screamed at them a couple of times. They I thought I was you coming in for another session, and they couldn't even see Matthew the whole time!"

Allison F. Jones plopped down on her thousand thread count sheets, sinking into the soft mattress. "Oh, take a chill pill. You guys will be fine. I mean last year Alfred…"

"Got killed by a micro nation?"

"Well yeah, but the point is, he could've won if he wasn't so dumb," She turned her blue eyes on her Canadian look alike. "You and I, we're smarter than that, okay? So just calm down and it'll be fine," Allison reached ad turned her lamp off, sinking into her king sized bed and falling into a blissful, yet loud with abundant snoring and drooling, sleep. Marguerite watched as the loud and proud American drenched her pillows with slobber, then cast her eyes down and sat down on her own bed. Rather than trying and miserably failing to sleep, the nation merely sat in the dark and thought about her life. Alongside her brother, she'd grown up with Alfred and Allison, first under France, and then Britain, making the two quarrelsome nations her parents.

Parents that were both dead.

She'd seen it all and cried through it last year. First France getting a sword suck into his back by Prussia, than England holding on, caring for his little brother, and then getting all the way to the final five tributes before having his ribcage crushed and heart ripped out by a revenge hungry Germany. Marguerite could still hear the man's scream and sobs of anguish, and she could still see France being struck and falling to a cold, hard ground from which he would never rise from.

She could only hope the same thing wouldn't happen to her.

…..

"A lovely morning, don't you think, Romano?" Spain stood up, stretching in the golden sun streaming in through his bay window, and trying to coax a grumpy Southern Italian boy out of his bed. "Come on now, there's breakfast waiting downstairs!" Spain said excitedly as he pulled a pair of slacks over his tomato printed boxers.

"I'm only going to die soon anyway, so shut up you miserable bastard!" Spain blinked at Romano's muffled outburst as the Italian rolled over and pulled the golden blanket back over his head. The Spanish man bit his lip and gingerly bent down over Romano's head, gently patting his dark brown hair.

"Now Romano, don't talk like that. It's like this is uh, this is…" Spain trailed off, having difficulty fighting Romano's argument that they were most likely all going to be dead within ten hours anyway. The two weeks of assessment and training had gone by, and Spain had even learned how to throw knives and use a bow and arrow. "This isn't the end, eh? The audience loved us at the tribute parade; remember we were even featured last night?"

Romano turned around, a murderous look in his eyes. "Yes, the crowd loved you, I wasn't the one with the million dollar chariot, and I only got a freakin' TWO last night, while Mr. Asshole Conquistador here got himself a fat old seven, at least you have a CHANCE at living!" He breathed heavily, a minuscule tear streaming down his eye, which he quickly wiped away before Spain could see.

Spain scratched his head, frowning. "It sounds like you're going to target me in the arena…"

"Maybe I will! If I don't die within the first minute!" The Southern Italian stood up, growling angrily before slamming the bathroom door. Spain shook his head and sighed, just wishing that Romano would go back to being chibi and living in his house with everyone else. Besides Isabel, all Spain and Romano actually had now was each other. Maybe if Romano wasn't so stubborn and chalk full of pride he'd allow Spain to help and protect him, but he'd angrily shoved Spain away in the training center, not wanting the other tributes to see then together. Indeed, Romano had struggled in almost every station, except, oddly enough, the one on berries, a feat which he had tried to show the Gamemakers.

"I guess I will just head down before they drag us out…" Spain sighed exiting their enormous and luxurious room, and trudging down the hallway, dismally wishing he could just be back at the village, or better yet, home. The Spaniard enjoyed a quiet elevator ride down to the ground level, along with FemFrance, he stared intently in the mirror, fixing her hair and pulling her outfit up far too high. He exited, and proceeded to the cafeteria area, deciding he may as well take this opportunity to stock in on some delicious Capitol foods for what would probably be the last time. As he grabbed a plateful of tomatoes and a gourmet seafood salad of sorts, Spain though about how another, different handful of twenty four nations had been in this exact same position just one year ago. He could imagine that America, like his female counterpart was actually doing, would be cramming all sorts of food into his gullet right now. China would be sampling every tiny thing, not wanting to leave anything a mystery.

And Italy…poor Veneziano must have been terrified, or perhaps feeling a little bit more confident with Germany at his side. Nevertheless, had he sensed impending death coming? Did he scream and cry all the way down to the arena, or adopt his cocky attitude, and show no fear? Even after that…did he die alone, completely terrified, cold, and full of pain, or did little Italy's final moments pass with somebody at his side, comforting and holding him as he passed on? Spain had to believe his little brother was able to die in peace…and he had to do the same for Romano.

"Spain?" The after mentioned nation looked up to see Romano, all dressed and ready standing above, chewing his lip.

"What is it, Romano?" He responded, looking up into the Italian's contorted face.

He shuffled about nervously, taking large, juicy bites out of a tomato he was holding. "I…I just wanted to say…to say that I'm sor- that I'm so-, s-,s-" He stamped his foot not being able to get the words out beneath his overwhelming pride. "For the things I said…"

Spain raised a thick, brown eyebrow. "You're sorry?"

"SHUT UP! I mean, uh, yes…maybe." He swallowed the rest of the red fruit and wrinkled his nose as Spain smiled and patted his head, pleased to finally hear what an attempted apology was at least.

"It's okay, little Romano," The Spaniard responded, he stood up, and stood in closer to Romano, taking in his milky white skin, chocolate brown eyes, and odd bits of brown stubble on his cheeks. As the acidic scent of tomatoes and mozzarella swirled in his nose, Spain leaned in closer and closer yet.

As he grabbed the boy's face, he bent in, and kissed Romano's soft, pink lips.

**Sorry it had to be cut a bit short, but the tributes will arrive at the arena next chapter ;) Thanks for reading, and review! **


	3. Chapter 3: Launching and Falling

**Many thanks to those who reviewed so far! It helps me more than I can say **

Romano stood sprang up, bits of his tomato juice and seeds falling onto the mahogany and silver dining table. "I…I have to go!"

Spain frowned, vexed. "Where? We don't have to…leave for another half an hour! And Romano, you can't just spill things on the table. It. Is. Mahogany!"

"I don't care about the damn table! And maybe I just want to be early okay? Different than your lazy bum…" Grumbling, the Italian boy stalked off to the massive marble lobby, hiding his nervous and terrified and demeanor under his angry surface. Spain shook his head and returned to what would most likely be his last proper breakfast ever. If only Romano would swallow his pride and let the Spaniard help him…then perhaps he'd be in better shape. Even his little brother had had help from Germany last year, before their deathbed marriage when England had killed him, at least.

Spain had to help Romano avoid the same fate.

…

"Come on Louise, we got this!" Daisy Vargas cheered happily, prancing about the lobby as she cheered on the grim German women seated by the diamond fountain. "Oh, hey, who do you think you're targeting first?" She asked as if discussing food choices, munching on a slice of pizza.

Louise sighed, narrowing her sharp blue gaze. "I think I'm going for someone that won't be too much of challenge first, like maybe India, look-" She nodded toward the tan man seated in the corner all by himself staring at the wall, no doubt consumed by nerves. "He'd be an easy kill to pick off; I could probably just choke him and be done with it." She tapped her chin, thinking. "Or perhaps somebody like Iceland or Norway, I've never even seen them fight in actual wars; unless you count me overrunning Norway in a couple days with Lud-"Louise shook her head, not wanting to discuss her dead brother. She sort of wished Belarus was in the arena, that way she'd be able to get even, even if that woman was a danger. "I could also go for male Belarus, uh…what about you?"

"Ah, you're so cool!" Daisy swallowed her pizza. "You're so confident, Louise, I really admire you for that." The Italian tapped her chin, looking around the lobby. "I'll try leaving Romano and Spain alone-"She cut off, gazing around the lobby as she saw Romano enter, looking sallow as usual, and briefly wondering where Spain was. The two had been together an awful lot lately. "I'll probably go for Isabel, I don't like how that women always struts around like she owns everything, or maybe Fem China…she's just so…counterfeit!"

"I've never quite looked Chun either," A soft, delicate voice mused. Its owner, Sakura, sat down next to Germany, tracing the diamond patterns with her finger.

"Oh, there you are," Louise said upon her arrival. "We were just discussing plans for the opening bloodbath. From what I've seen, it's the best time to get a couple of easy kills in, particularly against some undesirable nations." Louise wrinkled her nose a tall, stuck up women in a very short dress entered the lobby, striking up a conversation with Daniel. "Fracois Bonnefay, I want to get her in the arena…she won't know what her…" She trailed off shrugging and wondering if it was normal that the thought of killing other nations was giving her mutual pleasure.

"That French bitch needs to learn that she is not as cool as I am!" Gillian, Prussia's female counterpart, announced loudly, her red eyes staring the women down. "I won't let her get away from the bloodbath!"

Sakura bowed her head, her long black hair shielding her pale face. "It would be wise to remain quite about our plans…some other tributes might overhear." Daisy frowned at this, and glanced around the lobby. Indeed, Isabel was casting a wary eye toward the group of female Careers, probably having heard their conversation.

"Well I wanted to kill the Spanish women anyway," Daisy shrugged. But I'll let you guys have all the good ones.

Louise rubbed her temples, anxious to get rid of some of the nations. "Sakura's right, we can't just go blabbering about our plans. I mean, most of the tributes have seen us in the training center, so it's not like they don't know about our strengths."

Gillian snickered. "Yeah, like when a whole crowd gathered to watch you rip the whole line of dummies apart with just a sword."

"Or one they all watched you scale the rope course," Louise countered, sighing. "Some of these nations are so…pathetic. They really just don't stand a single chance."

Daisy laughed, running her hands under the water spout. "But we do."

…

"Guys, just chill out, you're practically crapping yourselves!" Allison Jones exclaimed, laughing at Canada and Marguerite, who were sitting on the ground in a corner of the lobby, tears running down their whitened faces, and clutching each other's hands for dear life. "It's not like you're going to die or anything-"She paused, scratching her dirty blond hair. "Wait…"

"We are going to die, Allison, don't you realize that?" Canada squeaked in protest, leaning on his sister's shoulder. "We don't stand a chance. It'll be a minute before we're picked off, yanked away from each other, and mercilessly stabbed to death by one of them!" He pointed to the Career girls, who were sitting by the diamond fountain, happily looking around the whole room and talking happily, no doubt on whom they were going to kill or torture to death first. "Or maybe somebody else will get us first this is just…hopeless!" The Canadian man hung his head, staring down at the black marble floor. "We trained a little bit over the past two weeks, but it's not like we can actually fight. After all, the Gamemakers only gave us each a two."

Allison shrugged. "Eh, you just had to show them what you were actually made of. I, for one, got their attention by decapitating a hard plastic dummy with just a dagger, come on guys, you'll be fine!"

Marguerite looked up at her identical American counterpart. "You can't be so sure though, last year Alfred got stabbed in the neck by Liechtenstein; he didn't even get to the top eight!" She fretted. "I wish we had Mr. Kumajirou with us…I know he'd make me feel better.

"Maybe there'll be bears in the arena," Canada said, grasping his sister's hand. "Maybe _they _can help us figure this all out."

"Well, then I guess the lesson Alfred taught us is don't be dumb, and stay away from little girls with knives," Allison shrugged as Effie Trinket, dressed in a hideous pink dress that most of the nations wrinkled their noses at, entered the lobby, scanning and counting the tributes and accompanied by nasty looking guards that would shoot to death any tribute who tried to escape.

"Good, good we're all here then," She said sweetly, addressing the throng of tributes and patting her violet eyelashes. "In just a moment you will all be escorted to the hovercraft that will take you to the arena. She proceeded to take a double check to make sure all the reaped nations were there, as the guards surrounded the circle of tributes, nullifying the possibility of anybody running away. "Excellent!" She blinked. "Well, let's go then!"

Canada and Marguerite grasped one another and sobbed for what could be the last time.

…

Alice Kirkland couldn't deny the voracious butterflies in her stomach. The English Lady tried to pretend she was just boarding another hovercraft that with a number of other nations that would take her to yet another world conference. In a moment, she'd be sitting at the wide table, listening to America rant, and to Germany screaming in frustration as Italy cried over the joys of pasta.

Only thing was, America, Germany, and Italy were all dead and never coming back.

Just like England.

"No, Alice," She chastised herself. "You won't fall like Arthur did, just stay strong and remain vigilant…" The Brit muttered to herself as a guard prodded a metal rod into her back, rudely forcing her into the austere black metal hovercraft. Effie pointed her to a seat labeled with the Union Jack and her name, and she sat gingerly sat down, hoping this wouldn't be the last time she sat in a hovercraft. As soon as her backside sank down onto the cold metal, a heavy bar lifted down across chest, preventing her from moving her arms or getting out of the seat. Around her, several other nations grunted as metal bars lowered across their own seats as well. "Good grief," Alice muttered bitterly, gnashing her teeth. "They treat us if we're cattle going to the slaughterhouse, which we sort of are, but still!"

The British women rolled her eyes as a man in a white suit came toward her, a needle in hand. "Your arm, please,"

"Why should I give you though-bloody hell?" She winced in pain as the man stuck the needle into her arm, which vibrated for a few seconds, and then settled down as he moved to the next tribute.

"That was your tracker," He explained, readjusting his needle. "So we know where you are in the arena,"

Alice sighed heavily again. "Yeah, wouldn't you like _that? _Goodness they're even worse than the London police, wanting to keep tabs on me while I go kill people…" Her train of though was interrupted as Effie walked up the hovercraft's isle, addressing the tributes as they lifted up and away, over a beautiful snowcapped mountain range dotted with bright green trees. Each and every nation wanted nothing more than to be a bird, no matter what kind, and fly away together over the mountains and to the heavens, for once not all bickering. For once at peace with each other.

"Now then," Effie interrupted, wobbling on her high heels. "We'll be landing in the arena shortly. Each one of you will be sent to your own individual launch room to receive your clothes for the Games and to make some last minute preparations…" The women droned on as the plane flew over the mountains, and then touched down on the ground, as the bars lifted and each tribute began to shuffle of the craft.

"And remember!" Effie called as the nations walked out on her. "May the odds be ever in your favor!"

"Fat lot of help that'd be," Alice murmured, glaring back at Effie. "She probably enjoys doing all of this, and then seeing almost everyone die." Feeling at a loss for life, the Brit hung her head, her long blond hair shielding her eyes from the guards as the escorted the twenty four nations down into a pit of sorts, with a door for every country lining the walls. As she was pushed toward the Union Jack door, Alice let a tear slip down her pale cheek. She felt as if this were merely airport security, while it was so far from it. At least twenty three people didn't die in airports every year.

"Look on the bright side," Alice reminded herself as she walked into her spacious launch room, where her stylist, a women named Willow who'd also styled for Arthur and discovered the French flag on his nether regions, was waiting. "They still don't know how I got that twelve."

….

Niokolai stepped onto the silver plate that would soon take him up to the arena, wondering how his sister Belarus had dealt with this last year. He was already dressed in the outfit that had been administered to everyone for the gamers; a pair of dark green pants that could be made into shorts with a zipper, and a blue tank top. All he knew was that the arena had better not be like his native country; otherwise they'd all freeze to death before the gong even sounded.

"I've got this," The male White Russian told himself as a cold female voice began counting down the seconds.

_Ten…Nine…Eight_

"My sister won this whole thing last year, what's to make me any different?"

_Seven…Six…Five_

He took a deep breath, and spat onto this metal plate for luck as a clear plastic cylinder enclose around him.

_Four…Three…Two_

Nikolai could feel himself rising through a black tunnel, and then the distinct scent of salty water and sand swirled in his nose as he opened his eyes. Thankfully, the arena was far from cold. In front of him, the golden Cornucopia gleamed in the sun, located in the middle of an island of white sand and surrounded by a grotto of palm trees with fat, brown coconuts hanging from them. Clear water teaming with multicolored fish lapped against the island, with several dirt land bridges leading to fields of roses and trees behind them. At least, this wasn't so bad. The Cornucopia was on a tropical beach island, with fields of flowers behind it.

Narrowing his eyes, the Soviet set his sights on a bronze knife about six feet in front of him. As he planted his feet, decked in brown boots, into position, the left heel caught onto a spat of spit. As he bent his knees, Nikolai could feel himself falling. Above him, Mr. Templesmith welcomed viewers to the 67th annual games, and began counting down from sixty. Isabel and India, the tributes at his sides, fixed their eyes on _his _knife.

He hit the warm, white sand.

The next thing Belarus' brother knew, he was launched into the air, his eyeballs opened wide before being blasted from their sockets. Bits of brain and skull flew everywhere, dotting the white sand red with blood and guts. His heart landed directly on top of the bronze knife he'd been eying.

Alas, Nikolai was dead before the Games even begun.

"Ladies and Gentleman, let the sixty seventh annual Hunger Games…begin!"

**Uh ooooh! How will these Games play out? Do tell, and review ;) Thanks for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4: Draw a Circle, That's a Kill

**Hey everyone! Thanks to all that are reading so far! Now, with a little over 7 hours left of this year, I present you with the bloodbath chapter: D However, there is a fair bit of GORE here, so you have been warned. But please, enjoy and review! I would really like to hear your thoughts on my work so far. Thank you to Sarpando, Fallingdown98, TheRoyalHippogriff, Miss. Innocent Liar, Guest, Tabitha Black, Ana Braginski Serbia for reviewing so far. Keep the reviews going **

The gates of Hell sprang open as twenty three Hetalian tributes sprinted toward the Cornucopia, feverishly grabbing supplies as they went, desperate to get every last bit while they still could. India lunged for a long, bronze knife with a wooden handle that Nikolai had been eying earlier, before he was blown to bits. Gritting his teeth, the large nation smacked the dead man's heart away and seized the cold wooden handle, happy to have a weapon.

"No!" He turned around to see Isabel, who'd also had her eye on the knife, sprinting toward him with an enraged look on her face. She reached her hand out as India backed up, but before the Spanish women could even reach him, blood erupted from her head. India looked back as he ran to see Daisy Vargas standing above her, a sharp cleaver in her hand and a malicious look in her eyes, "Get away now, AHHHHHHH NO!" Isabel screamed as the cleaver cut into her neck, effectively stopping her loud screaming. More blood flowed out of her as the sobbing Spanish women settled down into the warm, white sand.

To die.

"Well, glad I escaped that…" India muttered to himself as he sprinted to the land bridge. He wasn't a very strong swimmer, and the seemingly tropical water could be laced with all sorts of foul creatures, so he had to risk taking the bridge to shore, although he suspected it could become crowded with a throng of escaping tributes. His legs burned with a ferocious fire, he was almost there…

"Going somewhere?" Louise slid in front of the entrance to the bridge, holding an already bloodied dagger in one hand and a heavy, double bladed axe in the other. India gasped as he saw the mangled, cut up body of Mexico at her feet. Hides of tanned skin lay around her, and her head had been chopped straight in half, revealing white bits of skull bone…

Feeling sick India backed off, holding his knife in front of him, his brown eyes wide with fear. He held his knife in front of him and pointed it at Louise as she lunged forward, swinging her silver dagger upwards. The two weapons clashed as the German nation grinned, before slamming her iron axe straight into India's side, carving through his skin and bones as if they were mere pieces of softened cheese.

"Gahrrrr!" He gurgled, the buildup of blood in his mouth preventing him from screaming aloud. His face was streaked with tears as he back up; then stumbled, falling onto the sand. India raised his knife again before Louise kicked his only weapon of defense out of his hand, then stuck her dagger directly through his neck, as stabbing cold pain burst through his body before his eyes gently rolled upwards.

India felt no more.

…

Sakura withdrew her sharp steel katana as she slid in front of the entrance to the second land bridge, Louise guarding the other one at the opposite end of the island. In front of her, various tributes scoured the Cornucopia, looking for weapons and supplies, while others fled the island, either trying, yet failing, to get past Louise or braving swimming across the clear waters. Daisy and Gillian guarded the Cornucopia massive opening, both heavily armed with spears and knives. Sakura grinned as she saw Korea attempting to sprint in and grab a sword, but Gillian's spear reached him first. He screamed and crumpled down to the sand, as Daisy took over, hacking his neck open with her cleaver. The Asian man screeched in pain as blood poured out of his neck and chest, and then twitched, his incessant writhing ceasing forever.

"That's good," Sakura said to herself, watching Korea settle down to his death. "He was starting to get rather annoying…" She snapped out of her thoughts as a tribute came scurrying toward her, wielding a heavy steel pan like one would cook meat in. Sakura Honda narrowed her black eyes and raised her Katana. It was Chun Wang, China's female counterpart.

"Out of the way, aru!" The Chinese tribute yelled, angrily wielding her frying pan.

"I do not think so," Sakura countered, taking a battle stance. With a bellow, Chun swumg her pan down at the Japanese tribute, who scowled and side stepped, avoiding the blow, yet also opening up the way for Chun to sprint onto the land bridge, determined to get to safer ground.

Well, that wouldn't be happening if Sakura had anything to say about it. She flared her nostrils, and bent down into a running stance, tearing after the Chinese female. Grass crunched under her boots, and mud spraying in all directions. As she jumped forward, the mud making her slide forth even more, Sakura propelled herself into the air, reaching out and seizing a fistful of Chun's hair. She rooted her feet and the ground and pulled the screaming Chinese backwards, kicking her backside and feeling the spine curve inwards. Nerves prickled under her pale skin. This was what the kill was all about.

Chun grunted, blood sputtering out of her mouth. "Leave me alone, please, aru!" Sakura raised her fist again smashed it down on Chun's gaping mouth. More blood poured out of her mouth, as she began to scramble up, holding her pan. With an angry look on her face she swung it forward, the heavy steel managing to make a hard impact with Sakura's cheek and nose as she swung aside.

"AHHH! That hurt, uh!" The Japanese growled as she heard a loud and sickening cracking sound on her nose. Hot and thick blood stained her porcelain skin red. "You are going to be dying very painfully now…" She raised her katana again, the stainless steel flashing brightly in the shining sun. Sakura flashed a grin. The rising sun was the symbol of the Japanese Empire. She'd destroyed China once before, and she was going to make it happen again.

Before Chun could try raising her pan again, Sakura moved like a cheetah, slashing her Katana directly through her right arm, as the limb plopped down into the mud, effectively nullifying the potential danger the frying pan could pose. The Chinese tribute let out a metallic scream of pain, her face flushed pure red. Sakura's heart beat faster, and the hairs on her neck rose, relishing the beautiful kill.

_Whoosh. _Her katana sliced through Chun once more, this time cutting her right leg in half. Bits of white bone and squishy muscle plopped out as Chun began sobbing. "STOP IT! NO, NO, NO, AHHHHHHHHH!" Sakura smiled, her eyes flashing. She plunged her Katana straight down into Chun Wang's stomach, slicing the weak skin lining open and opening the way into her intestinal track. The sickly colored grey organs pulsed inside her stomach, no doubt digesting a meal of cooked rice and vegetables.

"Hello there," Sakura giggled as she bent down, her fingers wiggling in the anticipation of ripping the organs. With another look at Chun's sobbing, bloody face, she plunged her hands into the Chinese stomach, feeling the intestines warm throb against her skin and relishing the feel of bloody death. Tugging, Sakura heard a loud tear as Chun screeched yet again, yet this time slightly weaker, her strength running dry. She cast the intestines aside onto the mud and jumped on top of Chun, ripping her katana through the air and down through her neck.

Chun's head sliced clean off her body.

…

The cold grate of steely death cut through Hong Kong's side. Gurgling his own blood, he cascaded down onto the sand, waves lapping up against his body. The salt water strung rather sharply in his multiple lacerations, but he hardly felt pain anymore. After Korea was hacked to death, he had tried to run for safety and at least save himself, but Louise had caught him before that could ever happen. He'd been planning to make an alliance with Korea and Vietnam, but that plan had been foiled. At least Vietnam was a strong swimmer and was able to escape Louise.

"Win it…for us…Vietnam," He rasped as he saw the blurry outline of her swimming through the waters and toward the opposite shore. His eyes snapped shut as Louise approached him, swinging her axe upwards before cutting it through his heart.

…

"I told you guys there wasn't anything to worry about," Allison sighed as the trio of north Americans bobbed through the waves to the flower laden shore.

"The others couldn't even see us…" Canada stammered, hardly believing their luck. "I swear, that German girl stared right at us and kept on walking…"

"We actually do make a pretty good team," Allison grinned, the warm water soothing the battle wounds she'd received righting her way through Gillian and Daisy to get a supply pack, which was, luckily, waterproofed. "And I'm the hero!" She paused and turned toward the two Canadians. "Hey, did you guys manage to scavenge any weapons?"

"A few knives and a small crossbow," Marguerite answered, patting the weapons concealed in her boots. "So it leaves a knife for each of us to take and a crossbow to use collectively."

Allison nodded as the three washed up on shore, the mellifluous scent of roses tickling their noses. "Good thinking. But for now…where should we go?"

…

"Bend down on the ground, NOW!" Louise roared as a sobbing Francois Bonnefey dropped onto her knees on the sand, arching her back forward and facing the water.

"Please…you will let me live? I am much too pretty and sexy to be killed…especially by you!" She begged, her formally neat blond hair hanging in messy slumps around her scratched up face. "I want to live…"

"We'll see about that," Louise grunted in response, twirling her dagger around. "But seriously, how did you end up on this island anyway? Every other tribute that wasn't stupid enough to challenge us either swam away or managed to get away via the bridge. Typical French people…they're almost worse than Italians…"

"I was too pretty to go swimming, and I wasn't going to go in the way of all those disgusting corpses," The French girl explained, wrinkling her nose, "Just gross…"

Louise slowly raised her axe, its dual steel blades flashing in the sunlight. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I just can't stand the scent of all that blood, like what you did to poor Mexico and India…" Francois responded. "You're quite a filthy specimen yourself, you know that?"

"Oh…I suppose I do," Louise grinned, her axe directly above Francois' skull, ready to back her worthless brain to bits. "You know, I was about to cut open your precious little brothers, Spain and Romano, but Spain's quite a strong swimmer, and nobody can catch up to an Italian in panic…though it wasn't enough to save little Italy last year."

"You…you monster," Francois shook. "Germans never cease to disgust me…"

Louise's axe flashed in the sun. "There is, however, one thing you should know." It swung down.

"I was never going to let you live."

**Review! And thank you for reading **


	5. Chapter 5: The Aftermath

**Hey everyone! Sorry if I got the Nordics a little OOC in this chapter, I don't really know their characters very well :0 Thank you to Sparks in the Water, TheRoyalHippogriff, Sarpando, Little miss innocent liar, Super Serious Gal 3, and Majora Sama for the reviews last chapter! They were all so awesome XD **

"Looks like that's all for the bloodbath this year," Louise sighed, hoisting her axe over her shoulder and staring down and Francois' bloody and mangled corpse, her whole spine brutally chopped in half. Gentle waves lapped against the shore, taking streaks of scarlet blood with them and beginning to cleanse the beach island. "We didn't do too badly, at least, and I'm glad I finally took this…thing down to her grave."

"You're the one who got the most kills!" Gillian exclaimed as she motioned to the four bodies around her sister's feet. "You got Mexico, Hong Kong, India, and then Francie Pants…all I got was Korea over there," She pointed to the Asian man's body. "I got him pretty good, though."

"And I helped!" Daisy declared proudly, emerging from the Cornucopia's mouth. "But anyway, who wants some pasta?" She held up a steaming iron pan full of rich, white noodles and tomato sauce.

Louise blinked. "How did you even manage to get that in here? I don't even think the Cornucopia has that sort of food."

"There's always pasta if you look for it!" The Italian answered cheerily, pouring the meal into four separate bowls. "Plus while you were busy killing everyone, I went ahead and hid the best food supplies in the Cornucopia so there wasn't a risk of other tributes finding them, after I finished her off," She nodded toward Isabel, who lay motionless on the sand with multiple gashes and wounds covering her.

Sakura smiled at Daisy as she gathered up the left over supplies. "That was generous of you, and I think carbs are a good meal before hunting," She looked to Louise. "Am I right?"

"I suppose so," The German woman conceded, plopping down next to the small fire Daisy had built. "We do have a night of hunting ahead of us, and it is always best to stay proper fed." She shrugged and began to dig into her bowl of pasta. "Not bad!"

"It's quite excellent," Sakura agreed. "Such an affair like this sure does make one hungry."

"You mean killing people?" Gillian put in as she noisily slurped on her portion. "I guess it does, although I thought it was pretty awesome, but not as awesome as I am!" She wagged her finger "Which of course nothing is!"

Louise shoved a spoonful of pasta into her mouth, chewing hungrily. "I can think of quite a few things."

Gillian frowned, turning her red eyes to her sister "Oh yeah, like what?"

"Well for one my fighting skills," She shrugged, putting her empty bowl aside "And my nation as a whole."

"You-"Gillian began, glaring at Louise.

"Guys!" Daisy protested, poking her head out of her bowl. "Don't fight right now. Maybe you'll both get some good kills on the hunt tonight, eh?"

"I do hope so," Gillian huffed. "I was so busy protecting the supplies earlier that I let that stupid little pansy Austria get away, but I'll slice him up soon," She grinned, patting the spear and machete that she had selected from the Cornucopia. "He'll wish that he was never even born."

…

"Romano, look what I found!" Spain grinned happily, entering the make shift shelter he had made in the rain forest out of wood and the wide water leaves they'd found.

The Southern Italian perked up. "Tomatoes?"

"No…" Spain sighed. "Just some berries, but I am sure that you can tell which ones are safe for us, no?"

"I guess," Romano sighed as Spain laid the assortment of fruits out on a rag. "It was the only station I could even do." He looked the berries over, and turned them in his fingers. "Wow, this one is really poisonous, Nightlock," He explained as he took a bundle of ordinary looking black berries and stashed them in one of the pouches of the brown pack Spain had scavenged from the bloodbath. "Maybe some other tribute will fall for it, but don't be a dumbass and eat it okay?"

"I won't!" Spain assured his Italian subordinate, ruffling his dark brown hair. _Because I don't ever want to leave you. _He thought to himself, plopping down on the dirt floor next to Romano, leaning against the tree trunk their shelter was built against. "But why don't you go ahead and get some rest, I'll take first watch," He offered, withdrawing his dagger from the pack. "Just get some sleep, Romano."

"If that's what you want," Romano replied, rolling his eyes and settling down on the blanket Spain had laid out for him, beginning to wonder why the Spaniard was being so kind to him in the first place. He knew he could probably manage to run away if he wanted to, he didn't have to be with Spain like he did back when he was younger, yet at this point Romano couldn't help but feel a special connection with the other nation. A special connection that…bonded them together in a way Roman couldn't quite explain. After all, it wasn't like he even liked Spain or anything. In fact, he'd spent most of his toddler and youth years contemplating murdering the guy. Even with that foiled, he'd sufficed to running away from his care and risking being seized by Turkey, or the pedophile France.

"Be sure not to let anyone in," Romano grumbled to Spain before settling down on his belly and drifting off to sleep, hearing gentle drops of rain pitter and patter against the top of their teepee like structure while feeling a strange sense of comfort with the knowledge that Spain was there for him.

The Spaniard merely smiled down at the dozing Italian boy, admiring how peaceful and happy he looked when he was asleep, as opposed to his crabby and mostly aggressive demeanor when he was awake. His mouth wasn't curled into a nasty frown, and his eyes showed no sparkle of anger or frustration as they so often did, yet merely a calm and overcast gaze as he murmured something about Tomatoes and pasta.

"You should know I'd never let anything hurt you, Romano," Spain whispered, bending down and planting a delicate kiss on his cheek. "Never,"

…

Iceland inched away from Norway as Panem's seal flashed across the evening sky, followed by its anthem.

_Boom…Boom…Boom…Boom…Boom…Boom…Boom…Boom… _The echoing canon shots souned through the flower field the trio of Nordics were resting in as sounds of rain and several nasty sounding animals came from the rainforest behind them.

"That's eight," Norway counted, tallying his fingers. "Only sixteen of us left now."

"Right," Iceland grunted. "I really hope I'm going to get to be the one to go home…"

Sweden, who was trying several roses together into a bouquet, apparently immune to their thorns, looked up and shot the withdrawn European a glare.

"What makes you think it's going to be you?" Norway questioned, frowning. "It's not like any of us really stand a chance…we're all forgotten Northern countries that no one really cares about, just like how Finland"

Sweden looked up again and shot his neighboring nation another glare, this time looking over his glasses. "I mean like how Finland did pretty good last year…" Norway trailed off nervously, rubbing the back of his head. Really, the truth was that Finland had been slashed to pieces in the opening minutes of the Games, and Iceland and Norway were lucky to have escaped a similar fate at the hands of Louise or Gillian. At least Sweden could defend himself, or other tributes at least gave him his space.

The faces of the fallen tributes passed through the sky, as Iceland and Norway looked up. First there was Nikolai, last years' victor's male counterpart, followed by Isabel, Mexico, India, Chun Wang, Korea, Hong Kong, and Francois.

"Good thing that Nikolai is already out," Iceland commented, watching the faces disappear forever. "He was probably going to be a pretty big threat and I just don't trust that whole family."

"Just because Russia was trying to be nice to you?" Norway scoffed. "He was trying to be nice by helping you out with that nasty bout of fever before we all got kidnapped, and he's dead now anyway."

The Icelander lay back against a patch of tulips, wishing they had something with more cover, but Sweden made them stay out of the Rainforest, insisting it was packed with dangerous animals and malaria. As usual, the Swede was avoidant of all disease risks. "We're just sitting puffins here as it is."

"I'll take first watch and you can shut up," Norway provided, grabbing the pack Sweden had grabbed for them, and taking out his knife. "Really, you've been in a fit of anger and grumpiness ever since the reaping."

"Hard not to be…" He grumbled in response, looking up toward the crystal stars.

"Oh, Louise!" Iceland and Norway shot up as he heard a teasing female voice call out from a few yards to their right. They whipped around to see a pair of glowing red eyes looking them down as if they were to be a satisfying meal.

"Look what I found."

**DUN DUN DUN**

**Thanks for reading, and review :D **


	6. Chapter 6: More Blood Flows

**Chapter six here for you all! Thanks to all those that reviewed so far, I really do appreciate them! And thank you to Fallingdown98, Sparks In Water, LittleMissinnocent Liar, TheRoyalHippogriff, and Sarpando for reviewing last chapter! Enjoy, review, and thanks for reading! **

"My feet hurt," Canada whined as the trio of Americans trekked ever further through the rainforest, mud splashes covering their legs and beads of sweat sticking to their foreheads. "And I'm hungry…we've been walking for hours in the dark…but for what?"

Allison waved his woes away. "Quit your yapping, I told you I'm trying to find a way out of this forest so we can get to a better place where we'll be safer from those crazy Career girls, and where I can plan something to take them down."

"That might not be so easy," Marguerite murmured in protest. "They would've tore Canada and I to shreds if they didn't even know we existed."

"Nah, it was because I was with you," Allison assured them. "Those crazy girls would never dare attack such a cool hero like me."

"I think they cut you…" Marguerite pointed to the wide scarlet line on her sister's arm, caused by Louise's knife before she'd managed to power her way through the powerful German.

Allison frowned, her hand instinctively flying to the wound. "Mind your own business…it's just a little cut." She opened her canteen and took a swig of water. "Make sure to drink enough water, you two."

"I have to pee," Canada announced.

"My feet hut," Marguerite groaned, repeating her brother's earlier point.

Allison gave an audible sigh, rubbing her temples. "Okay, okay, we'll take a short break, but not too long!"

"Good," Marguerite grinned, collapsing to the soft, muddy ground and rubbing her feet. Canada bowed his head and ducked behind a tree. Allison puckered her mouth and glared at the siblings, unsatisfied with their need to stop and rest.

"Look who I found!" Canada said excitedly as he emerged from behind his tree. He looked behind him as a large, furry white mammal emerged, licking its lips and starring the trio down with its beady black eyes.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Allison screeched in question, jumping back in panic. She withdrew her machete and shakily pointed it at the mammal.

Marguerite scowled at her American sister. "Put that down, and don't be so scared, it's Kumajirou!" She jumped up and dashed forward to hug the bear. "And he's all grown up too…oh it's been way too long since I saw him!"

"Bears don't even live in the rainforest!" Allison sputtered, still shaky. "It's probably just some nasty Gamemaker's trick!"

"Kumajirou could never be a trick," Canada assured, patting his head. The mammoth white bear turned and stared his male owner down intently, not being able to place him.

"It doesn't even know who you are," Allison rolled her eyes. "Classic."

"We're Canada," The two introduced themselves to Kumajirou. The mammal blinked, and then licked their hands, flashing its enormous and sharp teeth Allison's direction. The two Canadians continued petting and cooing over their supposed pet, before climbing on his back.

"Come on, Allison," Marguerite offered, pointing to the spot behind her. "We're all really sick and tired of walking, and Kumajirou can even lead us out of here, which is what we were trying all along, no?"

"Oh…oh fine," Allison sighed in defeat, heading over to the bear. "Let's get out of here."

…

Austria's hair curl stuck up as he stuck his legs into the clear, pristine lake stuck in the midst of the expansive flower field. "It's so beautiful here…" Above him, the moonlight reflected into the water, as the flowers rustled around him. The whole field was an illusion of death.

Sighing in defeat, the musician stood up. "But it's only a matter of time before those girls catch up to me and cut me into a thousand miserable pieces."

"Stop being so pessimistic, will you?" Daniel told his ally, somewhat irked. "I got us away from them at the Cornucopia, and I can probably do it again, so stop your fretting!" He set down a small handful of bread and berries. "Eat."

Sighing, Austria reached over and took some bread, stuffing it into his mouth. He knew Daniel was only being this nice to him because he'd felt obliged by his sister, Veta.

"Oh, Hungary," Austria moaned to himself as he chewed his bread. "If only you could see me now…" He bit back yet another tear, feeling its searing sorrow in his throat. The Austrian had missed the chance to avenge his lover's death by taking out Male Belarus before he blew himself to bits. Each and every day for the past year had felt like an expanse of misery. Nothing had amused any more. He had stopped producing music, and his master grand piano had started to slowly rot away in misery, just like Austria himself. It was but his sheer hesitation that had kept him from taking a knife and digging in into his stomach. Austria knew that would hurt far too much. Instead, he just stayed in bed most of the time, feeling utterly depressed and angry.

Well, now that he was in the arena, perhaps some other nation would take the courtesy of doing it for him.

The two men ate their meal in silence, and then decided to turn in, with Daniel taking the first watch and promising to keep the axis girls away. Sighing Austria closed his eyes and tucked himself into the knapsack they'd found in their pack. Ironically, Austria didn't see Hungary against his shut eyelids as he so often did back in the village, yet only a murky, dreamless haze which he sank into as the sounds of nighttime crickets and critters sounded around them, and the various flowers whispered in the nighttime breeze.

Before a blood wrenching scream tore the peaceful night apart.

…

"Don't think you can just pick us off," Norway warned coldly, clutching his dagger and giving Gillian a cold stare. "I was once a Viking, you know."

Please," Gillian guffawed, finding the whole ideal funny. "You stupid little Nordics don't stand a chance against some real nations. All you do is rot up there in your icebox."

"Yeah," Daisy, who was standing behind her Prussian ally, put in. "How do you put up with all that cold and icky weather? I'd just hate it…"

Norway narrowed his gaze, gnashing his teeth. "Like this."

Without warning, the Norwegian jumped forward and spin around, his steel blade flashing toward Gillian as it roughly scraped her arm, causing a jagged red line to gape across her skin.

Snorting, the Prussian jumped forth in retaliation, making Norway leap aside as her sword narrowly missed its mark. Iceland rolled around and raised his own knife, yet Daisy rushed at him, wielding her cleaver. The grating clashes of metal against metal echoed across the field. Again and again, Norway jumped out of Gillian's sword's way, but was unsuccessful in getting another hit in on her.

"Do you think you have this under control?" Louise sighed from behind her battling sister, looking toward the rainforest. "Sakura and I think we've seen signs of some other tributes spying on us from the rainforest…I hate to think they'll try to pick us all off while we're distracted.

"Yeah, yeah no problem," Gillian assured her, starting to tire Norway out. "And Daisy's got the other one under control."

Norway looked up and blinked when he heard Daisy mention that there was only one other Nordic. Hadn't Sweden just been with them? And yet, why didn't the powerful man come to their aid to help stave off Gillian and Daisy?

"Sweden!" The Norwegian gasped as he collapsed to the ground, panting and sputtering. "Help me, please!" He spun his head around and scanned the field. There was no sign of the towering male nation anywhere to be seen.

"No, no, he has to come help us!" Iceland whimpered, with several bloody cuts and scrapes showing on his pale skin, and his face sweaty and ashen. "We were allies…how could he just leave us like that?"

"Some alliances you guys make," Gillian laughed, abruptly kicking Norway, who'd clambered to back to his feet, back to the ground. He grunted and clutched his stomach in pain as the boot made contact, his dagger slipping from his sweaty fingers in the process. "You really all are such losers, not awesome nation like me."

"Or me!" Daisy piped up, slipping behind her Icelandic opponent and grabbing his arm. Before Norway could register what was happening, the steel blade of her cleaver cracked into his skin and bones, blood spewing onto the tulips below. He tried to twist around and take a swipe at her with his knife, but only yelped aloud when she twisted his arm, more blood spilling out of his wound. With a satisfied grin, she raised the cleaver high above her head and slammed it down.

Directly onto the back of Iceland's neck.

_Crack. _

Another scarlet river flowed out of his body, this time staining his shirt and flowing down his back. The Icelander gave out a small moan, and sank to the ground, twitching, and screaming beneath his wounds and pain.

"NO, ICELAND!" Norway bellowed. Forgetting Gillian for just a second, he dashed toward his Nordic fellow, bending down and taking in his injuries. "Please be okay, please be okay!"

_Snap. _

Norway tasted the distinct scent of blood in his mouth before the world started to whirl before his fading eyes.


	7. Chapter 7: Hunter and Prey

**Hey all **** Sorry for not updating a little earlier, school has really been keeping me busy. Thanks to all who reviewed, and keep them coming! I love them and read every single one **** Oh, and this is also the one year anniversary of my first crossover, Hetalians in the Hunger Games, almost down to the exact time, I think. Happy anniversary crossovers! *Shot* Thanks for reading! The Hetalians love your guys' support **

Pain.

Sweden couldn't help but think that its mental form was indeed far, far worse than its physical attributes. His bright blue eyes stung with salty tears as he tore through the field, trying his best to drown out the screams and battle cries echoing from behind him. Just as the lonely fellow had become attached to the two other Nordics, Norway and Iceland…they were doomed.

He couldn't handle the pressure of putting his heart out to others again. It was just like when Finny had passed…all he'd seen was a snap scene of Prussia stabbing him in the stomach on T.V last year, and then seen the Finn's corpse at a hasty funeral service held with several other fallen Hetalians.

When the Swede snapped his eyes shut, he could still see the crystal image of Finland's snow white body in a small oak casket, resting peacefully against soft red cushions, and his eyes...closed and unseeing.

Eyes that would never see their lover again; closed or open.

"No," Sweden grunted to himself in a raspy low voice. He couldn't think about Finny right here in the arena. He'd moped enough throughout the whole entire year, and what he had to do now was just to survive…and win. Win for Finny.

With a scowl, the Nordic turned his ears and back on his screaming comrades, and ducked into the steamy rainforest.

He couldn't be hurt again.

…

"AH!" Norway screamed as a blinding pain ripped through his head. Knees wobbling, he crumpled down to the flowers below, directly next to his ally Iceland, who'd been wounded by the likes of Daisy's cleaver. Above them, their two female axis opponents snickered down at them, yet each panting quite a bit from the efforts of their brawl.

"Only a decent fight…" Gillian sighed, her heavy broadsword resting at her side. Beside her, Daisy gave out a chuckle, spinning her bloody cleaver about.

"The Nordics were never much of anything anyway, now where they?" The two giggled once more, ignoring both Norway's and Iceland's rasps of pain and misery. Blood seeped out of their wounds, staining the lively tulips below a deep scarlet.

Gillian glanced behind her, toward the forest. In the distance, the two could hear the dim yells and screams of Louise, causing them to raise their eyebrows.

"She must have found someone or something tough…but probably not awesome," The German women remarked, turning toward Daisy. "We should go check it out; these two are at their miserable deathbeds as it is."

Daisy nodded in agreement. "Right," She turned toward the sputtering Nordics. "Have fun dying!" With light steps, the set of allies disappeared into the steaming trees.

"And…stay…away," Iceland muttered, barely audible. Norway could hear a horrible gurgle at the back of his throat, as bile, blood, and saliva dripped out onto the field, marring the alluring flowers.

"You're right…" Norway sighed in response. The Northern nation groaned as a blinding ache split through his skull once more, as black splotches dotted his vision. The shining silver stars in the velvet sky above began flicking off, one by one, as if flipped out by a switch.

"Dying…hurts…" Iceland coughed, more bodily fluids flowing out of his mouth. His shaky hand pawed weakly at his bleeding stomach, pressing over the wound.

Norway exhaled, feeling as if his chest was weighing down, and filling up with sand. "Just close your eyes….close your eyes and go to sleep." The Norwegian sighed once more, his hand shooting up to his burning cranium. "In the morning we can be back home again."

Iceland smiled weakly, tasting more blood and stomach acid stirring in his mouth. "With the puffins, the puffins…" His glassy eyes stared into the darkness. The sticky air plastered against the Nordics' skin, and shiny beads of sweat lined their foreheads. "You're…a good….big brother."

"I'm glad," Norway's slack lips curled into a ghost of a grin. "Iceland…you were the best little brother I could have…ever asked for." Groping in the darkness, the brothers reached their hands outward, feeling each other's slackening pulse and moist palms. A soft patter of drizzle washed against the flower field, feeling cool and refreshing against their hot and sweaty skin.

"Good," Iceland nodded slightly, and then rested against the tulips, his limbs weighed down with injury and death, and his chest rattling. "See you soon…Brother." The small Nordic went still, staring up at the sky, his violet gaze thousands of light years away.

"Just sleep, sleep…" Norway squeezed his younger sibling's hand as it shook then lay dormant, moving no more. "It'll all be better in the morning." The nation bit his lip as cold rain precipitated against his head, easing the blazing ache caused by Gillian's sword. "Sleep."

_Boom…._

_Boom…_

Two canons boomed through the nighttime sky as Norway and Iceland settled down into a slumber from which they could not awake.

…

"Oh, damn you!" Alice Kirkland spat at the figures below her. The English female reached and seized the next tree branch before pulling herself into the next tree. "I almost had a good aim at you before you had to go ahead and see me, you could have made this just so much easier!

"I could recognize a dumb blond anywhere," Louise snarled in response, smashing her axe against the tree trunk, making the entire structure shake.

Alice growled. "You wish." She raised the harpoon clutched in her other hand, pointing it down at Sakura and Louise. "Now you'd better stop that, young Lady. Deforestation is not doing anything any good, now is it?"

"I'm just working ridding this world of a larger misery," Louise grunted, slamming her axe down again.

Alice turned and swung to the next tree, ducking into the thick canopy, seething at Louise. The Brit had tried her hardest not to attract any attention while spying on the Career Axis girls, before Louise had spotted her, leading a wild goose chase through the rainforest. Panting heavily, she darted through more trees, managing to remain a good forty or so feet above her pursuers. Below her, she heard more yells, mostly in German, with two new voices shouting back to her.

"Just wonderful," Alice growled to herself. In just a night, she'd been able to get all four axis girls hot on her trail. "I must be quite talented…." She trailed off as she looked up at the star streaked sky, hearing two consecutive booms.

…

"What was that?" Romano shot up in panic, his curl bouncing upwards. "Those booms…"

"It's just some other tributes; we'll find them out tonight."

The Italian looked toward Spain, as he rubbed his eyes. "How long have I been out, anyway?"

The Spaniard rubbed his head, yawning. "Six or seven hours maybe…"

"Why didn't you wake me up, huh?" Romano sighed. You didn't have to keep yourself up for that long just for me, you know, and you look exhausted."

Spain smiled at his Italian ally. "You looked so peaceful asleep, better to keep you like that than cranky all the time."

"Shut up," Romano snapped back, sitting up and scooting to the entrance of their shelter. "Just, go to sleep now, okay?"

"If you insist," Antonio replied, moving to the mat he'd set up for Romano earlier, and settling down on its soft surface, reveling in the Italian's scent and body heat.

"Spain?"

The tomato lover blinked and looked up at Romano.

"Just be sure to wake up."


	8. Chapter 8: Moving Along

**Chapter eight here for you guys **** Thanks to Snowtail, Fallingdown98, Sarpando, and Gildbird780 for reviewing last chapter! Sorry for the late update…school has really been killing all my time. Oh well. Read, enjoy, and review!**

**Also, I have a question for everybody: What did you think was the most brutal death in this series so far, in either these Games or the last installment? Just something I'm curious to know **

Organs and blood squirted in every direction. Lumps of pale skin flopped uselessly on the ground, still freshly warm and pulsing. The ground burst into flames, and Spain could feel their searing pokes on his skin, yet remained static, as if tied down into place while the trees and vegetation around him crumbled to ashes. Below him, Romano's decapitated head rolled around in the flames before looking directly up at him, the dark mahogany eyes filled with hate and sadness, boring into the Spaniards inner heart and soul. With a moan, Romano's head opened its mouth.

"Why, Spain? Why didn't you protect me? Why did you let me die?"

…

"Finally," Allison sighed as she slid of Kumajirou's back and onto the soft brown soil beneath. She glanced to the wide line of trees at their backs, glad to have found their way out of the rainforest at last. The North Americans had been on the move for over eight hours, and had each sustained a heavy number of bug bites and stings, as well as survived a close call with a rabid pack of what looked like tropical wolves, but they'd made it out of the forest, far away from the nearest dangerous tribute. Or so they thought.

"I'm tired," Marguerite put in as she jumped to the soft ground, the soil squishing pleasantly under her toes.

"I have to pee," Canada whimpered yet again, bending over and clutching his upper thighs.

Allison rolled her eyes as she set her pack down onto the ground. "You Canadians are all such wimps…just go pee already!" Canada squealed and hobbled behind one of the many thick Rosemary bushes that dotted the plain. "And I'll take first watch, okay?"

"Deal," Her sister responded, throwing her own sleeping down on the soil and crawling into it. The first streaks of pink began clawing around the horizon as they began settling themselves in, indicating the start of a brand new day. Back home, Allison would always enjoy each morning with coffee and doughnuts, as well as the company of her brother Alfred…who'd never be there to share a morning with her again. Who'd never gorge on a while dozen set of chocolate glaze and then go on to eat twenty burgers all without getting sick, every again. One of the richest, most developed nations on Earth who would never be able to see the pink fingers of dawn for all eternity.

"Should we build a fire?" Canada's soft question snapped Allison's train of thought.

She blinked, looking up at him. "I guess..."

"Here, I got some rosemary," He explained, pointing to the small pile of green and purple leaved sticks he'd made on the ground. "And Kumajirou can scare off anybody that spots are fire."

"That's one benefit to having a bear tag along," Allison muttered as she grabbed her black spark rocks for her pack, scraping them together a few times and letting a bright flash onto the sticks before her, watching them smolder and smoke. Freshly burned incense tingled in her nose, reminding her off all the crazy rituals Alice and Arthur always used to do to summon spirits. "He can kill intruders," She looked back at the enormous mammal. "Isn't that right?"

Flashing his teeth, Kumajirou gave a small yawn before looking questionably at the Canadians. Allison settled down on top of her sleeping mat, staring into the scented flames, as Canada tucked himself into his own bag, and began softly snoozing away. Above them, the sun peeked above the horizon, its soft golden rays creating a pleasant mix with the pink streaks of dawn, and Allison couldn't help but think that they were at the edge of the world, not to mention the arena as well. The soil and bushes went on for a while, yet Allison just saw it fading into the distance, most likely terminated by some sort of force field.

The edge of the world, after all, wasn't a horrible place to die.

...

"Get down here, worthless scum!" Alice heard Louise shriek from below her. Cocking an eyebrow, the Brit glanced down.

"What was that? I'm sorry I'm too high up to hear your dulcet tones!"

Louise breathed hard, looking up at her target. "Forget it. I'll go up and get her myself!" The German stuck her knives into the tree trunk, using them as levers to pull herself up. Her sharp blue eyes were fixated on Alice, filled with determination and hate.

"She's good," Alice grunted. "But not good enough." The British woman turned and grabbed onto the next tree branch, clutching it tightly before pulling herself over. For a moment, she felt herself glide through the sky and over to the next tree.

_Snap. _With a gasp, Alice looked up, just in time to see Daisy's sharp cleaver slice through the branch's base, before the whole thing tumbled down, pulling her along with it. Thinking fast, the British nation hugged onto the trunk on the way down, managing to steady herself for a moment before she roughly slid to the ground, unable to keep herself up. Jagged pieces of tree bark and nettles cut into her skin, and leaves and debris piled up in her flawless blond hair, which was the most flawless in to arena now that FemFrance was cut up.

"Yes! I got her to come down!" It was Daisy voice, with a tone of excitement she'd often heard in her male counterpart when he making pasta, or spending time with Germany.

"Oh come on, I was almost up there!" Louise pouted from above as Alice scrambled to her feet. She saw Daisy several yards in front of her, grinning up at Louise as Sakura and Gillian stood back, helping Louise climb back down her tree.

Narrowing her gaze, the Brit grabbed onto her harpoon, and sped forward, tugging on Daisy's her and roughly shoving her to the muddy ground. The two nations grappled for a bit, before Alice arched her body, positioning herself on top of Daisy, who was now facing down in the mud. Hands shaking, she pushed the sharp tip of the harpoon against the Italian's neck before sitting on her back, glaring up at her other three adversaries. Daisy whimpered below her, sounding just like her deceased brother.

"One wrong move and I stick her neck," Alice growled in a low voice, pushing the end of the harpoon even closer to her neck, and drawing a bead of blood.

As Louise blinked, Alice saw a look of glassy concern in her blazing eyes, before she returned to her hateful gaze. She turned to Gillian, the two having a quick exchange in German before Louise turned back to Alice, sighing heavily.

"We would like to propose an alliance with you," She blurted, staring the Brit down.

Alice's harpoon remained pressed against Daisy's neck. "I was under the impression that you wanted to rip my guts out."

"We think…well we think you're a powerful tribute. If we're still this early in the games, perhaps teaming up could get each of us much further than we imagined." Louise sighed in response, fixing her eyes on Alice. "Think of it this way. If Germany and England had never fought in World War Two, then so many lives would have been spared. The world would be in much better condition than it is, even now." She raised a blond eyebrow. "What do you think?"

Alice tightened her grip on Daisy's neck, thinking hard about if she could actually trust Louise's offering. She did have a point, however. If Germany and England teamed up for a change…maybe it would be a positive change, even if it couldn't last permanently. "Okay," She said slowly. "We can be allies."

…

Spain shot upwards, panting hard and drenched in sweat. His hair was dirty and matted, and his green eyes wide with shock and fear. The image of Romano's decapitated head and burning form burn against his eyelids, yet the world slowly started coming back to him. The damp and humid air pressed against him, being of no relief for his nighttime sweats. He threw the blanket aside and stood up, stretching.

"It was just a nightmare, Spain," he told himself shakily. "It was just a nightmare. Everything should still be intact…" His eyes flitted around the tiny shelter.

Romano was gone.

…

Chibitalia's fingers caressed his older brother's gravestone, the cold white marble soothing his shaking hand. Tears streaked down his cheeks, as they always did whenever he visited Italy's grave. The soft green grass below him swayed in the warm autumn breeze, yet a cold chill slipped down the baby nation's spine. As of late, something about the Hetalian graveyard had been throwing him off. Many remaining nations had frequented the site, but the number had been on the decline. Reports of voices, scurrying footsteps, and even full blown apparitions of the dead nations ran rampant throughout the village. Of course, most of the inhabitants blamed it on hauntings.

But Chibitalia couldn't help but think it was something else. Panem was located hundreds of years in the future from the world they'd come from, and most people didn't believe in hauntings anymore. Gulping, Chibitalia stood up and deposited a bouquet of wildflowers on Italy's grave, and turned around. Yet before he could head anywhere, something deep under his feet shook, as if disturbed. He widened his eyes, and picked up his pace, practically sprinting down the hill that led into the village.

Something underground in that graveyard had been keeping the nations away, not just a few hauntings. Something underground in that graveyard was...alive.


	9. Chapter 9: Festering

**Chapter Nine here for you **** A very large thank you to all the reviewers. FallingDown98, Sarpndo, TheRoyalHippogriff, and Snowtail. You guys are all awesome! So much more than Prussia or Gillian **

Austria gazed down at his reflection in the crystalline lake where he and Daniel had been staying. A long, pale face specked with dirt stared back at the composer, a haunted look in his muddy eyes. The lake in question was clearer than crystal, and Austria could see several silver fish dart about toward the bottom. Like most things in the Hunger Games, it only seemed ethereal to him, and rather eerie, as if the glassy water was really a treacherous lagoon in disguise. With a heavy sigh, the Austrian splashed a handful of water onto his face, washing away some of the grime, yet shattering the smooth surface.

_Slosh, slosh. _

Eyes shooting back open, Austria bolted upward, icy panic striking his heart. He could hear a pair of very heavy footsteps coming toward him from through the flower bed. It couldn't be Daniel; the male nation was still sound asleep on the other side of the lake, and Austria could even see his silent silhouette from here.

It could only be a larger and quite more hostile nation.

For a split second, the heavy feet stopped, and Austria suddenly contemplated diving into the lake in an attempt to escape his potential killer. As he stared down into the surface, the pansy could see the towering foe above him. There wasn't any denying that shock of shaggy blond hair, or the sharp emerald eyes. It had to be Sweden.

For a while, Austria merely stood there, hunched down in the flowers, mesmerized with his killer's wavy reflection. Heart racing faster than the speed of light, Austria opened his mouth to scream to the heavens for Daniel.

Sweden's hand clamped over the musician's mouth before he could even utter a syllable. Grunting with dissatisfaction, the Swede spun Austria around to look him in the eye, a stoic glaze on his face. The Austrian could feel and see himself kicking and flailing as hard as he could against Sweden's iron grip, yet it was useless. Even his hardest kick to the other nation's groin couldn't even get Sweden to flinch, let alone drop the incarcerated musician.

Lifting Austria off the ground, Sweden's knuckles cracked as he brought his other hand to Austria's soft throat, feeling the man's racing pulse against his palm. Without a second glance, Sweden squeezed his hand against Austria's neck, the fragile bones and tendons crumpling and snapping under the Nordic's iron grip.

_Hungary…_Austria thought as his gaze fell back against the sky, the weak morning sun washing across his face. He could feel his world start to go into one tiny tunnel, which he saw positive contained Hungary at its end. His body slackened, and he stopped resisting.

His whole colorful world went black.

…

"I'm tired," Daisy yawned, stretching her arms out and placing them on the top of her head as she frowned at Louise. "Why did you make us stay out all the way until morning?"

"I wanted to make sure we were getting the best prey we could on the first night," Louise muttered, spinning her knife around in her hands. "We wouldn't want some of the opposition who might very well give us problems later to get away, now did we?"

"Like those pathetic Nordics," Gillian laughed. "Good thing we got those brats out of the way, eh?"

Sakura bowed her head, her rich black plait glimmering in the weak morning sun. "I have never been quite partial to them either."

Together, the five females stepped out of the steamy rainforest onto the plethora of fresh flowers, as Daisy grinned at the fragrant aroma. She'd always loved flowers, plus she was relieved to finally be out of the steamy rainforest. The roses and tulips wavered still in the early morning breeze. They continued walking down the field, even passing the spot where Daisy and Gillian had fought, and killed, Iceland and Norway. Several small puddles of blood still remained, staining several of the tulips, yet blending in perfectly with the roses.

"Finally," Gillian and Daisy huffed as they clambered onto the beach, making a beeline for the Cornucopia, and their sleeping bags. The two nations curled up and instantly fell asleep, while the other three stayed behind; sorting the supplies they'd taken from Iceland and Norway. Alice lingered behind the other two, still slightly distrustful of her newfound allies. They'd committed most of their energy in hunting her down like an animal, but had switched this at once when the Brit was about to stick Daisy. Nothing was to say they weren't luring her into a trap.

"I guess I will take first watch then," Louise sighed, staring at her slumbering comrades, whom Sakura had already joined.

Alice sprang up. "No, no. I'll take it."

"Are you sure?" Louise raised an eyebrow in a rather quizzical manner.

"Quite sure," The English woman assured her, moving over to the fire they'd built. "You just go get some sleep for now, okay?"

Louise stared into Alice's emerald eyes for a good few seconds before nodding her head. "If you say so…"

At that, the German retreated into the Cornucopia, tucking herself into her sleeping back directly next to Daisy, as Alice noticed. As the fat orange sun clawed its way across the horizon, Alice turned away from her sleeping allies, staring hard into the flickering fire. The Brit was torn. Could she actually trust Louise and her minions, or were those pesky axis nations only leading her into some sort of nasty trap? At first, the answer had seemed obvious when Louise had been so hasty to propose an alliance only after Alice subdued Daisy. Yet the way Louise had accepted the English nation's proposal to take watch, and even been able to fall asleep so easily afterword, probably knowing how easily Alice could take her out now if she wanted to. One quick slash of her knife across her fragile throat, and it'd all be done.

With fumbling hands, Alice withdrew her knife from her boots, examining the sharp steel blade in the firelight, and slowly turning to the unconscious axis.

…

_Thump. _

The next thing Austria knew, his body slammed against the ground. He could feel his screeching lungs finally opening up again, as he took desperate rasps of air, coughing and sputtering all the while. For a moment, he regretted his choice to ignore wind instruments, figuring they may have given him a higher level of resistance to the asphyxiation Sweden just subjected him to.

"You…buffoonish…fiend," Austria gasped, bent over. Bile dripped out of his mouth, and his airway was slowly opening back up. Blood began thumping through his veins and arteries once more. He looked up, narrowing his gaze. "Well, aren't you just going to do it then? I'm an easy enough target for you as it is!"

Sweden closed his eyes, a low rumbling sound in his throat. Rubbing his temples, the Swede turned his back and Austria. "Can't."

"What do you mean, 'can't'?" The flustered musician demanded, still clutching his aching t

"Like me." Sweden shook his head, starting to shuffle away from his target. "I had Finny. You had someone too." With what was probably the most that particular Nordic would ever say, he turned and sauntered away, avoiding eye contact. "Don't tell."

…

In short, Panem could simply _feel _that he was the most powerful nation on this miserable Earth. The towering nation, dressed in stark white robes, sneered down at the twenty three Hetalian gravestones, even Russia's enormous granite pillar. He stood above Italy and Germany's neighboring gravestones, made from matching pieces of black and white marble.

"Love," The sadist chortled. "Look where that landed them." With a troublesome glint in his obsidian eyes, Panem turned and glided to the edge of the graveyard, toward a small grey rock that visitors often substituted for a bench, when they still used to come. Grinning, the Panemian bent down and inserted a glowing gold key into the middle of the rock, the utensil somehow slipping cleanly into the stone. He twisted it twice in a clockwise motion, and stood back as the rock began rumbling. It quickly split cleanly in half, moving aside to allow space for the entrance of a dark, cavernous tunnel that led directly underground.

Panem slid inside the tunnel in a rather furtive motion, the rock immediately snapping back into place above him.

Nothing followed him but a haunting echo.


	10. Chapter 10: Moving On

**Happy April Fool's day! Here's my latest chapter to celebrate :3 Sorry for the slow update, I've been busy with school again but I've also had some massive bouts of writer's block. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy, and please review! **

**Many thanks to Sarpando, Snowtail, TheRoyalHippogruff, and SM2J96 Mitsuki for the reviews last chapter! Keep them coming **

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" Canada groaned, his eyes drifting open to the sight of a perkily grinning Allison directly above him.

"Wha…do we actually have real food?" He asked, feeling his stomach churn. He hadn't had a proper meal since leaving the Capitol; they'd all been eating bits of jerky and jungle berries for the past three days.

Allison snorted. "No…but I could really go for a burger and fries right about now. Anyway, I found some more edible berries and leaves."

"Okay," Canada sighed, another hunger pang ripping through his stomach. The sun was peeking out through the clouds, albeit still low in the sky. Weak rays of light tickled his cheeks as he rolled up his sleeping bag and tucked into a few of the berries and plant leaves Allison had scavenged for them. "Some sponsors would be nice right about now."

"Yeah, yeah," Allison replied, sitting down and beginning to polish her knife with her sleeve. "Just get over it already, you Canadians are so whiny!" She lowered her eyesight to face her brother. "Life sucks. Period."

"Well that's not very positive," The Canadian whimpered.

"Just be grateful we're in a safe place," Marguerite emerged from behind one of the many bushes near their campsite, dubbed the "pee bush". "It looked to me like Vietnam was pretty eager to get to you on the first day, Allison."

The American woman inspected her knife blade, holding it up to the morning light. "Please. That little prick wouldn't stand a chance against ME. I'm not the hero for nothing, you know." She stood up, rooting around in her copiously stuffed pack. "Anyway…who wants some more jungle jerky?"

Canada could no longer see Allison's eyes, but he was sure that just a moment ago she'd had a look of…fear.

…

"There, that does feel a bit better." Austria rubbed his neck, which was still sore and stiff from Sweden's assault the day before.

"It's a wonder that beast let you go," Daniel said worriedly, mashing up more flower petals with his fingers, and applying them to his ally's throat. "Who's to stay he won't be back for more later on?"

Austria bit his lip, leaning back against his bundled up sleeping back and closing his eyes. "I don't think he will. He seemed pretty…honest about his intent. I think he's had his turn with love before…" He paused, popping an eyelid open. "Still, there's no denying he's quite a savage. No respect for music whatsoever."

"Right," Daniel nodded. "But if you make a full recovery, the two of us can him down." He looked down at the fussy German, plastering an encouraging smile on his face. "Don't you worry, Austria."

…

Alice lowered her face into the sizzling frying pan over the campsite fire, mixing scrambled eggs and bacon with a wooden spoon. One of the best advantages to teaming with the Career women, she thought, was the excess of high quality food. Most tributes elsewhere in the arena were forced to make do with raw plant leaves and berries at best, just like she'd had to do before the new alliance. She had, for the time being, decided to stick with the choice she'd made. So far, none of the other nations had displayed intent to get rid of her, or even any secrecy at all…yet the knife she'd been handling the night before still felt firm and cool in her side pouch.

"Who wants breakfast?"

An Italian whirlwind in the form of Daisy nearly knocked the Brit straight into the crackling flames. "Yummy! Oh I'm so hungry!" She licked her lips, staring down into the purple and yellow mass below, a small frown creeping onto her face. "Did…did you cook it?"

Alice puffed her chest, proudly waving her wooden spoon about. "Why yes, I did. You ladies are lucky to have access to quality English cooking, you know."

"More like quality English shit," Gillian groaned as she emerged from the Cornucopia. She plopped down beside Daisy and took a hearty swig from her jingling metal canteen. From the way Gillian often seemed to enjoy its contents, and judging how the Prussian also behaved, Alice had a nagging suspicion the canteen was filled with vodka. Or perhaps fine wine. In any case, it was potent enough to make Madame Awesome tipsy, at the very least.

"Just take a bite!" Alice spooned some of her concoction onto a wooden plate and passed it to Gillian. "You ought to be hungry, especially after everything that happened last night." She dished out several more portions as the other Careers emerged, before filling up her own plate. "Dig in!"

"Who could have messed up eggs and bacon like this?" Daisy squeezed her eyes shut, barely managing to swallow a mouthful. "It tastes like crap…literally."

Louise calmly stuck a spoonful into her mouth. "How would you know how that tastes?"

"Sometimes Feliciano used to leave…gifts around the house," She shrugged, discreetly casting several dollops of the food onto the ground. I don't think he every learned to properly use a toilet."

Louise polished off her portion, so far the only one out of the five to do so, aside from Alice, who was happily serving herself another plate. "That doesn't surprise me…the Italian boy never seemed like he way fully adult at all."

"He wasn't," Daisy giggled, kicking away the rest of her eggs and bacon into the waves. "But he never even got the chance to be, anyway. He died as a child."

"I suppose so." Louise grabbed her canteen, which was, as far as either Daisy or Alice could see, filled with foamy amber liquid. Taking a length drink, she turned to her ally, her voice reduced to a husky whisper. "Since neither Ludwig nor Feliciano will ever be coming back to us, the least we can do is…avenge their deaths." She narrowed her gaze, and pointed a meaty finger toward Alice.

…

_Splat. _

The lime green monitor lizard Vietnam had been tracking erupted its guts over the jagged boulder that would become her breakfast table. She grinned down at the twitching reptile, slowly pulling her machete out of its stomach. "There. All dead and gutted. Just like Allison will be very soon." With a grin, she slipped her machete under the bumpy skin, slowly peeling it all away before plucking a raw strand of metal from its body. She took a bite, slowly savoring the grainy yet juicy texture of lizard carcass. "Maybe I should eat that monster up after I hunt her down and cut her apart…like she did to my country." The Asian girl ripped out another piece of jerky from the dead reptile, greedily sucking it into her mouth. Vietnam still remembered the atrocities of America's so called "Vietnam War". Hundreds of her people had been brutally slayed merely to satisfy Allison and Alfred's paranoia over Communism. It was one thing Vietnam would never forget, and one thing she would never forgive them for.

In a sense, the arena was the perfect station for what Vietnam really wanted all alone. Revenge.


End file.
